Mindlessly
by BobDTigr
Summary: It's been a long summer for Marinette- Chat, her partner, best friend, (and maybe something more than that?) had been away travelling. Finally returning after one month, he visits Marinette one late summer evening. AU where Marinette has never met Adrien and has already revealed her identity to Chat
1. Chapter 1

Fingers mindlessly braided hair as Marinette half-listened to the sewing tutorial droning on and on in her headphones. The Youtube video was long and boring, as any good tutorial ought to be, and ultimately she had allowed her gaze to drift from pearl-coloured chiffon being bunched up under a sewing machine to the window on the far side of the room.

She could see herself reflected in the faint light of her computer screen, interrupted only by the shining Tuscan lights of the city. Legs crossed, bubblegum toes resting upon the edge of the matching desk. A lazy tank top draped over porcelain shoulders, a lacy strap slipping down a strong arm with no attempts having been made to move it up again.

The video buffered.

Taking a deep breath, Marinette pressed her back against the ever-slightly-too-hot chair, dangerously tipping toward the floor. Her hands fell out of her half-twisted hair, and she gingerly brought herself up just far enough to reach across and tap the mouse to pause the video.

Letting herself relax again, her eyes jumped back to the window and she wiggled her toes in lassitude, stretching her feet back and forth before uncrossing her legs altogether and letting them slide to the floor. Once more, she lifted herself up, this time to turn off the monitor. The room was pitched into blackness, save for the blinking blue lights of her computer and the yellow of the streetlights.

 _Buzz. Buzz. Buzz._

White relit the room as Marinette opened her phone, absentmindedly thumbing in the passcode without noticing the subtle green light oozing in through the window.

" _I'm hereee =^^="_

Slack-jawed, Marinette turned to face the window just as it was thrust open, sending in a deceptive summer's breeze as a familiar black-clad superhero slid into the room. Marinette welcomed the sudden chill, relishing in the goosebumps on her skin after spending practically the whole day cooped up in her stuffy room.

The gust rippled past her content form, rustling the littered papers scattered on her desk and sending one or two to the floor.

"Chat," she breathed, eyes widening in bliss. "You're finally back."

It was August now, she realized sombrely. One month, one whole entire month had passed, thirty one days gone since Chat had told her he was travelling away from Paris. Where, he hadn't said, and she hadn't pried.

One month he was away, leaving Ladybug behind to protect Paris on her own, something she had assured him she could do despite his absolute reluctance to let her. Evidently, he'd really had no choice in the matter- Marinette couldn't imagine him abandoning her willingly when the city still loomed under the threat of Hawkmoth.

And sure, there had been few akumas that summer- none, actually, now that she really thought about it- and all Ladybug had to do was show up to celebrations and festivals and basically any public event the mayor's daughter was attending.

It was a long month for Ladybug.

Marinette, however, led a life not nearly as interesting or busy as her superhero counterpart, spending day after day locked up in her room or helping her parents in the bakery. Yeah, there'd been Alya and even Nino on occasion, trips to cafes and theatres here and there.

But for the most part, she was alone. And she had missed Chat.

"I'm home, princess," he grinned in response to her bittersweet expression. A blissful smile played on her lips, eyes shining with the slightest hint of tears.

In a few short steps he tightly encircled her in his arms, loosening only for a moment to allow her to bring her arms up around her warm neck. They were pressed together so close not a molecule of space existed between them. It was silent save for the sounds of their breathing, bodies moving up and down, toward and against, perfectly in sync.

Marinette pressed tighter, sinking her blushed cheek against his fervently-beating chest.

She let out the tears she had unknowingly been holding in all summer.

"You're back," she said simply, unbelievingly. "You're really back."

She could feel Chat's smile widen against her forehead.

He was home.

Author's Note:

Hello! This is the first work I'm contributing to the fandom! I hope you like it c:


	2. Chapter 2

Marinette could never pinpoint the moment she fell in love with Chat Noir.

It wasn't like she had gradually come to like him- she'd always liked him, as a partner, as a friend, as the one person she could tell everything to.

So she wondered, when, exactly, it was that his harmless flirting started to make her blush, when his touch ignited her whole body. When even his puns that she had always dreaded began to sound like poetry to her ears.

She loved him.

She had simply woken up one winter morning, and the first thought that came to her mind as she watched the drifting snowflakes outside her window was _I love Chat_.

She loved the one person who had taken countless hits to save her over the years, the one who she could share just a single look with and he'd know exactly what she was thinking.

She trusted him with her life.

"- with both of them," she'd said, crystal blue eyes meeting his.

They'd been standing hip to hip, gazing out over the Parisian sunset atop the Eiffel tower. Both were sore and exhausted from the day's earlier akuma attack, but luckily neither had needed to use their special power. It was a rare occurrence, and they cherished those rare occurences.

The air was still frozen despite hints of spring beginning to pop up around the city, and it swirled around them, painting their noses and cheeks scarlet to match the sky.

Chat's face was tilted down toward hers, noses almost touching. He could plainly see the determination written across her face, and he knew that once Ladybug made up her mind, there was no going back.

Still, he remained quiet for a few seconds. There was a flash of hesitation in her eyes, and he knew that in that moment, she had wondered briefly if she was making the right choice.

She was, he knew. He'd wanted this for a long time, but he had stopped pressing her after the first year, knowing that she would reveal herself with time.

"I love you," he whispered. "I love _you_. Mask or no mask."

It was different for him, of course, being Adrien Agreste underneath the costume. Initially, he was afraid that if he revealed herself, she would fall in love with the money and the fame, as all the others did. He knew now that Ladybug had far too much integrity for that, but nagging thoughts still played at the back of his mind, and he'd dispelled the idea entirely.

Ladybug took his words as permission, wordlessly releasing her transformation. A brilliant pink light blended into the crimson of the sky, and where his Lady once stood a young girl of about eighteen appeared. Her face, her hopeful eyes, cautious smile, it was all the same.

Chat was not surprised that he didn't recognize her.

She was beautiful.

"Your name, my Lady?" he extended his clawed hand, slowly taking hers in his and lifting it to his lips.

"Marinette."

 _Marinette._

He brought her hand to his flushing cheek, holding it there. She was leaning up on her tiptoes, eyes searching his for his reaction.

"Marinette," he breathed, letting his free arm wrap itself around her waist. "Can I kiss you?"

His voice was soft, steady. She nodded, closing her eyes, a flutter of eyelashes dusting the apples of her cheeks.

He and Ladybug had shared many kisses; some short and chaste- a good morning, a good night. Others were in the heat of the moment, passionate and lasting as long as they had to embrace each other after devastatingly terrifying akumas, the threat of losing the other still weighing heavily on their minds.

But they were never like this.

The kiss was hard, all-consuming. It felt exposed, real skin clutching Chat's neck and tangling in his golden hair. He could feel the warmth emanating from her hands, and the way her lips pulsed in his had never felt more like fantasy. _But it wasn't a fantasy_ , he'd thought, indulging himself in the moment. It was real. She was real.

The duo shined like morning dew in the late sun, passion surfacing in their every touch and every taste, and when they finally broke apart, gasping for air, eyes open and wild, they heard the howl of the wind, hair flying chaotically in all directions.

"Marinette," he said, letting the name he had longed to know for so long roll off his kiss-bruised tongue. "How are you planning to get down?"

"I, uh- oh," she began before realizing her position, suddenly becoming aware of the height that existed between her and the cold earth below. Her kwami had hidden itself inside her clutch upon transforming, winded from the fight despite the relative easiness of it.

In any case, Marinette didn't want to wake her. She looked at Chat expectantly, smirking.

"Luckily, I happen to know this amazing superhero who specializes in saving damsels in distress."

His eyebrow quirked up, smile matching hers perfectly. "That you do, my Princess."

In one dramatic swooping motion he cradled her up in his arm, using the other to grip his baton.

"How about I take you home?"

 **Author's Notes:**

AHHHH I was so surprised to see that this got any sort of response, thank you so much!

I do apologize for the fact that the chapters are a bit on the shorter side, I write it all out on paper before typing it and somehow that makes it seem a lot longer than it really is. I hope you enjoyed it, though!


	3. Chapter 3

Chat had brought her home that day, dropping in on the balcony and letting Marinette gracefully land on the ground. He had been in awe, seeing the room of the girl he loved so much. It was pink, all pink, papers and fabrics scattered on every available surface.

She wrote in messy cursive.

"These are beautiful," he'd said, lifting up one of her designs next to her form.

"Oh, uh, yeah, it's my hobby," she replied somewhat sheepishly. "I do it in my spare time, you know, when I'm not at school, or out fighting akumas…" she trailed off.

"You're really talented," he told her encouragingly. "I'd love to see this on you one day."

It was a relatively simple design- full sleeved midnight lace atop a sweetheart bodice, cinched at the waist where it joined to a puffy white skirt that fell just over the knees.

"Would you like a snack?" she interjected suddenly, blush seeping onto her face. "My parents are bakers. Best in the city."

Chat's ears perked up. "Gladly."

And so began the regular visits, Chat and Ladybug meeting up for sunset patrol and ending it with a midnight pastry and conversation in Marinette's room. Usually they talked about school, or her design competitions. Marinette had been delighted to show him the Ladyblog, proudly explaining that her best friend ran it and how amazingly ironic the whole thing was.

Chat, comforted with the knowledge that he didn't know Marinette in his civilian life, revealed more and more of his personal self to her. He told her about his overbearing father and all of the unreasonable expectations he had to live up to.

* * *

"You were homeschooled your entire life?" Marinette had asked, completely shocked.

They'd been sitting next to each other on the balcony, backs pressed to the parapet and a fluffy blanket spread over their legs, of which Marinette's were resting on top of Chat's.

"Mmhm," he murmured, mindlessly tracing circles on her leg, fingers leaving patterns in the fabric of the blanket.

"Never had any friends growing up," he turned to her, a sad smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "You were the first."

"Oh Chat," she'd sighed, twisting to wrap her arms around him, pressing in as many feelings of love and comfort she could muster with such a simple gesture.

* * *

Sometimes they didn't talk at all, just basked in each other's touch and presence.

Such was the case on that August night when Chat returned.

The two were collapsed on Marinette's bed. Chat was lying on his abdomen, head facing out toward the darkened room. His left arm was bent to clasp Marinette's hand, whose arm he was using as a pillow.

Her stomach was pressed into his side, legs splayed over his, hand clutching the thick suit on his chest.

Neither was asleep.

Her face was lost in the mess of his honey-coloured hair, her cheeks perpetually ticked by the soft strands that smelled of coconuts.

She longed to touch him, feel him.

"Chat," she murmured against his neck, squeezing her eyes shut. "If- if I were to promise not to look, would you-" her voice broke when he stiffened.

She felt him turn over, his heart racing faster as he took in how desperate she looked, how terrified she was at the prospect of her own request.

Quiet.

"Okay," he said quietly, gingerly releasing his transformation. Marinette's face scrunched up in response to the sudden green light, but her eyes remained stubbornly closed.

"Thank you," she mumbled, reaching her arms around him, pulling him closer. Her hands moved slow at first, unsure, delicately exploring the new territory. Cotton, soft and worn. She stopped when she felt the edge of his shirt, afraid to discover what lay beyond.

"May I?" she asked, voice unsteady.

"You may."

Her fingers trailed down his exposed back. Her touch felt like poetry, swirls and zig-zags pressed into his skin like a melody in tune to the beating of his heart.

He remained still until he couldn't bear it anymore, sliding his hands around her waist.

"Hold on a second."

Her hands stopped, and she felt him squeeze her sides, lifting her on top of him as he turned over on his back. Her legs fell on his either side as she relaxed, letting the curves of her body align themselves with his. He reached his hands toward her face and brought her close enough for noses to touch and breaths to mix.

"Yes," she said, before he even had a chance to ask.

He kissed her.

Fingers found themselves in his hair, nostalgically rubbing where the base of his cat ears once were. Shirts rode up, warm stomach embracing warm stomach as the two bodies blended into one.

He let her take control, tilting his head this way and that as she tried to feel what she could not see. His arms glided down her torso, wandering past her exposed back, rubbing restlessly on the waistband of her shorts.

"May I?" he pressed his question onto her lips.

"You may," he felt in response.

Chat delicately pushed under the elastic, cupping the soft flesh with both hands, and gave them an experimental squeeze. She arched up slowly to press herself into his hands, and with every ounce of pressure she felt he received tenfold on his lips, the kiss pressing on and off in sync with his hands pressing on her.

Confident, he let one hand drift lower, letting his finger trace the outline of her backside before swirling it on her upper thigh. She felt shivers go down her spine, biting his lips in response. For a moment her hold loosened, and he fell away from her lips, but she pressed back instantaneously, begging to be let in.

Mouths opened and tongues danced. He brought both hands to her thighs now, relishing in the way each touch made her tremble and press herself closer to him. The comfortable warmth they'd been sharing ignited into a burning passion, the heat unbearable and yet addictive as they clamoured for more, unwilling to let the fire go out.

They continued, bodies captured in a trance until finally they could not afford to hold onto each other anymore. Marinette fell to his side, every part of her racing for air, every part of her missing his touch already.

They lay there for quite some time, raspy breaths filling the small space they'd made between them.

 _Buzz. Buzz. Buzz_.

"Chat," she gasped, unsurprised that her voice had gone hoarse. "Can you pass me my phone,"

Wordlessly, he reached over to her nightstand, grabbing the device and handing it back to her.

"Thanks," she turned away from him, pressing her head in the nook of his armpit to rest on the arm he had laid out for her.

The white light exploded, and Marinette willed an eye half-open, face scrunched up as she unlocked her phone and immediately set it to the lowest possible brightness. A couple taps.

Then she froze.

"Chat," she squealed, holding her phone up for him to see. "Look!"

On the front page of the Ladyblog was a post about the annual Parisian Couture Gala, a famous world-wide event that Adrien had been unwillingly attending for as long as he could remember.

"It says here Ladybug and Chat Noir were invited personally by Gabriel Agreste himself," she said dreamily. "He's my absolute favourite designer!"

She didn't feel Chat wince.

"How… nice," he purred half-heartedly, not wanting to lessen her excitement.

"Oh, but I wish I could go to one of these things as Marinette," she frowned, voice becoming drowsy as her eyes fell closed once more. "It'd be a great start to my-" she broke off into a yawn- "career."

"Sounds like the best start to your career would be getting some sleep," Chat poked at her teasingly, but he too was beginning to feel a bit sleepy.

The phone read 2:02 a.m.

"I should probably be getting home, I have a busy week ahead of me."

"So you won't be able to visit?" Marinette pouted.

"Not for a few days, at least," he replied, upset to see her sudden crestfallen expression. "I'll do my best, Princess," he said gently, rubbing her cheek with his knuckle. "I'll see you soon."

"Bye, Chat," she murmured against his arm. She felt him slide away from under her and off the bed, heard him carefully climb down the stairs, listened as he called upon his kwami to transform him, and finally turned over and watched him as he stepped outside, closed her window, and leapt out into the pitch-black night.

She was not surprised that he didn't show for a few days, for patrol or otherwise.

She was surprised, however, when she found an envelope in her mailbox a week later with no return address, "Marinette" written on top in elegant cursive handwriting.

Inside was an invitation to the Couture Gala and a small note that said simply:

 _I'll see you there. – Chat_

 **Author's Notes:**

I'm trying to remind myself plot is an actual necessary component of a story but tbh I'd rather just write them kissing lol

I hope you enjoyed this and please let me know if you want more kissy-fluffy stuff before the whole Adrien reveal drama starts c:


	4. Chapter 4

"And… we're… done!" Alya exclaimed, her voice ever so slightly muffled by the huge powder brush she was holding in between her teeth. She'd just finished applying a beautiful cherry red lipstick to Marinette's lips, and had taken a step back to admire her handiwork.

Marinette brought herself up from the chaise, careful to remove any wrinkles that might have settled on her skirt. She strode over to the full length mirror than hung on the back of her closet door to take a closer look.

"Wow, Alya," she breathed, taking herself in. She was wearing the blue and white dress Chat had liked so much the first time he visited. Thanks to Alya's insistence, it was paired with a pop of crimson lips and matching red pumps.

"I know right," her best friend smirked from behind her, obviously pleased. "Call me when Prince Charming falls in love with you."

"Alya!" Marinette squealed, haughtily turning on her heel to make a retort. She slipped and fell in the process, collapsing in a heap on the hardwood floor.

"You good?" Alya asked, half concerned, half amused.

"Yeah, I'm used to it," Marinette grumbled, rubbing her tailbone. She accepted Alya's hand and was pulled back onto her feet.

"Man, I wish you could come with me," Marinette sighed, dusting off stray pieces of fabric that had settled in her dress. She sat herself back on the chaise, glancing outwardly toward the window for a moment. "I won't know anyone there."

The clouds were lazily drifting across the sky, the horizon lit as though on fire before blending into the indigo colour that promised of a clear night.

"Same," Alya whined, plopping herself next to Marinette and recapturing her attention. "Ladybug and Chat Noir are going to be there!"

 _Well, just Chat Noir_ , Marinette thought, smiling knowingly. "I'll take a picture with them if I see them, don't worry."

"Thanks, Mari," Alya leaned into to give a quick hug.

"Marinette, it's time to go!" Sabine called from down the stairs.

"Coming, Maman!" She smiled gratefully at Alya before standing and making her way to the landing. "I'll talk to you later, I guess."

"Have fun!" Alya called, waving goodbye while watching her friend descend down the steps.

* * *

Ladybug had been invited to a lot of galas in the past as a result of her superhero status, but somehow, none of them even came close to comparison with this one.

Typically, such events were held in one of the many elaborate palaces in Paris, places that sported glamorous chandeliers and stunning vintage furniture and were listed in "Top Ten Spots to See in Paris" articles.

This one was held in La Defense rather than the city core, in what appeared to be the penthouse of the building, if penthouses even came this _large_. The elevators found themselves situated in one edge of the gigantic room, which featured enormous floor-to-ceiling windows on the other three walls. Up above, structural beams held a number of giant abstract shapes, each one a different colour and lit up to illuminate the otherwise dark room.

Marinette couldn't help herself from gaping upon first entering, mindlessly making her way through the crowds of people to the center of the room. She could barely remember the number of the table she was supposed to be sitting at, simply letting herself take in her surroundings.

What table _was_ she supposed to be at? She frowned, stopping for a moment just to remember. _Sixteen. Right._

She figured she probably ought to head over there, considering she didn't actually know anyone who would be attending.

Except Chat. Who was nowhere to be seen.

From above, the space between tables was filled with tons of people; small conversational circles were formed and every so often the people inside those circles would move to another, creating a pattern akin to cog wheels turning. In the midst of it all, one girl was twirling about, obviously lost, obviously looking for someone. She hadn't bumped into anyone yet , but given her history, it was only a matter of ti-

"Your dress is beautiful," she heard a voice to her left.

"Thanks, you look-" Marinette turned to greet the one who gave her the compliment, and came face to face with Adrien Agreste.

She's been face to face with him before, of course- on buses, subways, newspaper stands- you name it. In fact, it was practically _impossible_ to get around Paris without seeing the famous supermodel's face plastered _everywhere_. And yes, he was gorgeous.

 _Even more so in real life_ , Marinette realized. He was like, really very gorgeous, and normally Marinette had a wider vocabulary to describe such beautiful things, being a sort of artist and all, but he was _too close_ and people were flocking around them, pushing them _even closer_ together and she needed to find Chat _right now_ because her face was about to explode.

"-great too." She finished lamely, and with an awkward smile and half-hearted wave she threw herself into the midst of people milling behind her, hoping somehow the current would direct her to table sixteen.

 **Author's Notes:**

I apologize for not updating yesterday (and for the short chapter today), I had a rather… hectic weekend, you might say, but I did want to get something out, even if it was only half of what the chapter was supposed to be ;-;

Thanks for the support as always and shoutout to Hatsune Miyu because your reviews always make me so happy ^^


	5. Chapter 5

Marinette couldn't decide if it was good luck or extremely terrible luck that brought her to where she needed to go.

On the one hand, the group of people that she'd ended up joining all appeared to be heading to the exact table that she was supposed to be sitting at, which was awfully convenient.

On the other hand, she soon discovered the reason _why_ they were heading for that table.

It was Gabriel Agreste's table.

His face was unmistakable, and any possible doubts she might have still had were erased by the way countless people were greeting him as such.

 _There has to be some mistake,_ Marinette thought, nervously inching closer and closer to him as the procession of adults slowly trickled toward the renowned fashion designer.

 _Maybe it was sixty, not sixteen_. She glanced around desperately. _No._ There weren't even that many tables.

There was only a couple ahead of her now, a lavishly dressed pair who were thankfully taking their sweet time conversing with Gabriel.

 _If I'm going to get out, I need to get out now,_ she realized. Marinette tried to slip in front of the man beside her and make a beeline for the edge of the room, but that's when it caught her attention. A small nameplate sitting atop a gold-patterned plate, "Marinette Dupain-Cheng" elegantly written in beautiful green ink.

The man who she had tried to push past moved in front of her, muttering something about rude teenagers under his breath. He knocked her against the chair- her chair, evidently- and before she could make the situation any more awkward, she pulled it out and quickly sat down, sliding as far into the table as she could to take up as little space as possible. The wood pressed against her abdomen rather uncomfortably, but people quickly took up the spot behind her, leaving her stuck there.

She took a deep breath, trying to calm herself down. _This is crazy,_ she thought, _absolutely ridiculously crazy-_

"Marinette Dupain-Cheng?" a deep, questioning voice interrupted her bullet train of thoughts.

"Yes?" She said, lifting her head toward the asked. She added a quick "monsieur", stiffening when she realized that Gabriel had addressed her himself. The endless stream of visitors seemed to have finally ended, letting him direct his attention to her.

"I'm Gabriel Agreste. It's a pleasure to meet you, Miss Dupain-Cheng. I've heard much about you."

"Ah, yes," she said again, fumbling to respond appropriately. "Pleasure to meet you, too."

"We have quite a bit to discuss this evening," he continued, mouth drawn in a tight line.

 _What?_

Apparently he hadn't noticed the look of utter confusion on the poor girl's face; that, or he'd elected to ignore it, turning away to talk to the man sitting to his right.

She heard another chair being pulled out to her left, but was still too much in a daze over what Gabriel had said to her to really pay attention.

"I trust you've met my son, Adrien?" he turned to her once again.

 _Huh?_

Almost mechanically, she shifted in her seat, willing herself to look at the newcomer in the face.

She yelped in surprise when she saw him, which was strange considering she already knew who it was.

If he was disturbed by her behaviour, he certainly didn't show it, instead extending her his right hand. It took her a moment to remember that she was supposed to shake it.

"Marinette, yes?" he asked, eyes sparkling with a hidden amusement. "I'm afraid I've never had the opportunity to properly introduce myself. I'm Adrien Agreste."

"I know," she squealed, willing him to let go of her hand.

He seemed perfectly content to continue holding it.

She pulled slightly. He let go.

"Umm…" she mumbled, turning her attention away from the gorgeous blonde and back to his not-so-gorgeous father. Intimidating as he was, her voice was at least a normal pitch when speaking to him.

"Why, um," she faltered again, taking a second to clear her throat. "What am I here to discuss?"

He really was a daunting figure.

"Miss Dupain-Cheng, I do believe you've entered a number of my design contests, correct?"

"Oh, well, yes," she replied, nodding her head.

"Recently my son has taken a liking to judging those competitions, and he has become rather enamoured with your designs."

Any and all coherent thoughts that had been floating in Marinette's head (which, by now, were lacking in numbers) suddenly disappeared, replaced by a chorus of _wait_ 's, _what_ 's, and _wait, what_ 's.

"I too am rather impressed by the quality and creativity of your designs. The workmanship is far superior to most others your age, leading me to believe you have a lot of potential."

He paused, clearly waiting for a response.

Marinette felt like she was in a dream. It didn't help that she couldn't tell whether she was imagining the giggles to her left.

"Wow, um, thank you monsieur," she spoke slowly, trying her best to not turn into a complete stuttering mess. "I'm really honoured."

"It's not often we find such talent," Gabriel replied. "I'm in the process of finalizing the management for another branch of the company, and I believe you would be an asset to the team."

She was speechless as he handed her his business card.

"I'll contact you when it's prepared with further details, if you're interested, that is."

She didn't trust herself to say anything, just nodding and blushing as she put away the slip of paper into her clutch.

The arrival of dinner helped to reduce the awkwardness of the atmosphere, and Marinette found herself thoroughly enjoying the dishes that were being served.

They started with the appetizer, soupe de poisson, which was one of her personal favourites. Coquilles Saint-Jacques followed soon after, and then a plethora of roasted meats, each one bringing with it a different bottle of wine to the table.

The conversation continued around her, Gabriel taking turns speaking to what appeared to be very close associates. Much of what they discussed was strictly business related, complicated jargon flying left and right that Marinette had given up trying to decipher.

She kept her focus on the lady directly across the table from her. She had a solemn appearance which contrasted in personality with the bold red streak in her hair. Marinette gathered that her name was Nathalie, and she was the personal assistant to a certain blonde gentleman sitting directly to her left.

She pointedly kept her gaze away from him the entire meal.

After about an hour, with dinner and dessert complete and Marinette sitting contentedly full, there was a lull in the conversation. The silence was broken by the sudden start of classical music.

"Monsieur Agreste," Nathalie spoke up, demanding his attention. The look they shared was mutually understood, and Gabriel gestured to his son, who stood up immediately.

"Marinette," Adrien's voice was smooth, addressing her for the second time since he sat down. He extended his hand out again, placing the other on the back of her chair.

"Care to dance?"

A brief glance at the expressions around the table told her that "no" wasn't an option.

"S-sure," she stuttered, pressing her hand into his and letting him gracefully pull her out of the chair. It was really warm. Or maybe her hand was just really cold, she wasn't sure.

Her _face_ definitely wasn't cold though, steadily increasing in saturation as Adrien led her toward where a bunch of couples were already dancing.

"Oh, um," Marinette started, wondering if her voice would even reach him through the cacophony of music and laughter.

He stopped, twirling back to face her. "Yes?"

"I, uh…" she blushed further, turning away. "I don't really know how to dance, and, ah, well, I'm sorta clumsy, so-"

"It's alright," he cut her off, pulling her closer to him. "You can just follow my lead."

He took both her hands and set them on top of his amazingly broad shoulders, letting his own find their spot around her waist. Slowly, they swayed left and right to the beat of the music. He was quite a bit taller than she was, even despite the heels. She found herself levelled with his tie, refusing to look up and let him see how utterly red her face was.

His tie was red.

His silk suit, now that she noticed, was dark blue.

They matched perfectly, and this only made her blush even more, if that was even possible at this point.

If Adrien ever so slightly tilted his head, she could feel the soft ends of his hair tickle her knuckles. It felt so familiar, and suddenly she couldn't help but whip her head away from his chest and look out toward the room for a certain person who'd be dressed in all black.

No such luck. She looked both ways before sighing back into Adrien, shoulders falling dejectedly.

"Everything okay, Marinette? He asked carefully, voice laced with concern. He knew exactly who she was looking for, and was beginning to find it difficult to keep a straight face, especially after how _sad_ she looked, seeing that his alter ego wasn't there.

"Yeah," she mumbled into him, still not looking up. "Just nervous."

"It's okay," he said reassuringly, pressing his hands into her waist, resisting the urge to pull her into a hug. It was seriously getting harder for him, and he felt strange seeing how shy and reserved his girlfriend could be, used to her normally outgoing personality.

That's when it slipped out.

"You're doing good, Princess."

 **Author's Notes:**

I'm really looking forward to writing the next chapter ^^

Also, if you ever go to France please try their fish soup it's delicious


	6. Chapter 6

She looked up, hands slipping off his shoulders.

He seemed really surprised, like it hadn't meant to come out.

"I, uh, sorry," he sputtered, letting go of her and holding his hands up defensively. "I have no idea what came over me, I'm really sorry if it made you uncomfortable."

"It's okay," Marinette replied, willing a smile. "I was just caught off guard, I'm uh-" she stepped back, accidentally bumping into another couple- "I'm just gonna go take a breather real quick."

Adrien was reluctant to let her go, but the girl had already snuck herself into the tangle of bodies that surrounded them, disappearing into the jungle of dresses and suits.

She danced through the crowd as carefully as she could, darting under and in between all of the people and miraculously only tripping once. Her breathing became shallow as she continued to push past the seemingly never-ending wall of bodies, until finally she was thrown into the window with a thud, her still-scarlet cheek pressed unflatteringly against the freezing cold glass.

She unsticked herself almost comically, palms bracing against the hard surface as the painfully peeled herself off. Luckily, it seemed that no one had noticed her embarrassing circumstance, everyone far too busy paying attention to their own significantly less traumatic lives.

Marinette scooted along the narrow alley between the window and the people, heaving a sigh of relief when at long last she finally found the door that led to the balcony. She was about to push it open when she heard it. _Chat Noir._

She thought it was her mind playing a cruel, cruel trick on her, until she heard it again.

"It's such a shame, really," a frivolously-dressed old woman was conversing with an elderly gentleman who was sporting possibly the ugliest tweed suit Marinette had ever seen. "I was _so_ looking forward to seeing Ladybug and Chat Noir."

"Well, you know," her partner began to suggest, " they do have their own personal matters to attend to. They have lives behind the masks."

 _Right. That they do_.

And apparently _both_ of their personal matters involved attending the gala without their trademark costumes.

Marinette pushed open the glass door with a bit more force than was probably necessary. She slipped outside, letting it fall back with a crash, relishing in the way the sudden noise startled the older couple. She didn't care. She strolled to the railing, taking her first clear breath since stepping out of the elevator. Her eyes were threatened with a stinging feeling, and she blinked hastily, directing her gaze to the view she had of the city.

It was stunning- all night-time views of Paris were stunning- but she was not familiar with it. The Eiffel tower shimmered in the distance, the background a crisp and clear sky. If Marinette squinted, she could even make out tiny stars.

She and Chat never patrolled here, she recalled. They stuck mainly to the core of the city, travelling to the outskirts only in the case of an akuma. He'd love this view.

She wondered if he'd been out on the balcony.

Looking around and seeing no one else there told her he probably hadn't.

 _Chat_ …

Her tears fell.

* * *

Adrien had dun goofed.

He had desperately tried following her, but to no avail. Several people kept stopping him to make conversation, remarking on his father's latest collection or how fantastic he'd looked in his last editorial. His thank you's held no substance, his practised expressions betraying his panic as he brushed off colleagues and celebrities alike, trying to capture a glimpse of Marinette somewhere.

No luck.

Dejected, he sulked back to his table, well aware of his father's questioning stare falling upon him.

"Marinette's not feeling well," he lied, gathering his suit jacket into his arms. "I will be escorting her home."

He spoke matter-of-factly, thankful that his father was far too preoccupied with even more talkative guests to see the pain scribbled plainly on his face.

Not that his father ever noticed it anyway, but for once Adrien was grateful he didn't.

* * *

An emotionally-wrecked Marinette had abandoned the gala as soon as she could outwardly compose herself. She'd darted straight for the elevator, not in the mood to go back to her table and face Adrien or Gabriel, not caring what they'd think of her sudden disappearance.

She also didn't care that she was missing dessert, which, if you knew _anything_ about Marinette, meant a great, great deal about the situation.

She'd found a nearby alley and had transformed herself into Ladybug, hopping efficiently from rooftop to rooftop before releasing her transformation as she landed onto her balcony.

She kicked off her heels in one fluid motion, again settling herself on the railing, again looking out toward the city.

Again crying.

Chat _had_ been there, that much she knew. He wasn't a liar. If he'd written that he would see her there, she knew he most definitely had seen her. She felt as though she was being toyed with, a cat chasing a mouse on a string that was pulled away as soon as she pounced on it.

It wasn't fair.

 _Speak of the devil._

"Are you angry at me?" were the first words out of the cat-costumed boy, chest heaving like he'd _ran_ from La Defense.

He had, for the record.

"No," she shook her head, refusing to look him in the eyes. "Just… lonely, I guess," she added.

He wanted to hug her so, so badly. He wanted her to melt into him, he wanted his warmth to fill her and fix the sad smile that was playing on her lips.

But he couldn't. He couldn't do it as Adrien, and now he couldn't do it as Chat.

"Your face tells me it's more than just lonely, Princess."

Her tear-stained cheeks turned to him, eyes a blistery shade of red, a colour that as much as he'd seen covering her face in the past now felt completely foreign to him.

"I, it's just…" she began, all confidence lost in the jumble of the day's events. "You've told me you loved me countless times, even since before we started any of… this," she gestured around her.

"Mmhm," he replied hesitantly, a sinking feeling beginning to settle in his stomach.

"'I fell in love with you at first sight'," she continued, imitating his voice, a bittersweet lilt to her voice. "I'd always say: no, you fell in love with Ladybug! And then you'd go-"

"No," he finished, playing along. Nagging thoughts that had been carefully hidden away at the back of his mind started flying around his head. "Ladybug and you are one in the same."

His gloved hands moved to her swollen cheeks as he pressed his forehead to hers.

"Chat," she breathed against his touch. "Please let me love all of you."

He tilted her jaw upward, brushing a short kiss against her trembling lips. His mind was a hurricane, heart pounding like thunder.

"Marinette, don't you see?" he choked, heart shattering into a thousand pieces as he pulled away from her.

"This is all of me."

* * *

 **Author's Notes**

Yes, she's dense. But it's more fun this way ^^

Again, thank you for your reviews and support!


	7. Chapter 7

"No."

Her voice was void of any softness or sympathy, and it froze him. The heat radiating off her face that he could feel through his gloves, the warmth of the summer breeze on the painfully humid night- what once felt comfortable now burned him.

Marinette could feel the stiffness of his hands on her cheeks, could see him struggling to understand what she meant, could see the flash of terror on his face when the small, single syllable registered in his brain.

"No," she repeated, trying to contain herself. "It's not all of you, just like how neither Marinette nor Ladybug are all of me."

She pulled away from him, forming a distance between them that, albeit spanned a short few inches, now seemed impossible to close. Chat didn't dare even try. He watched as a mixture of emotions danced on her eyes- sadness, fury, _disappointment_.

 _How did it turn to this?_ He questioned, closing in on himself, tail and ears drooping, arms lamely reaching for where Marinette's cheeks were before eventually falling loosely to his sides. He couldn't make her understood- he himself barely understood why he was so hesitant.

 _Why?_ To an outsider, it seemed entirely ridiculous- he was a model, rich, famous. Everyone liked him.

Everyone liked him, but he had nobody.

Nobody except Marinette, and now he was losing her, too.

"You don't get it," his voice tore through his thoughts. "You just don't get it."

Chat's words were directed more at himself than at Marinette, but she didn't know that. All she knew was that she was tired, tired and exhausted because first and foremost it was past two in the morning and she had just undergone a stressful social event, and tired and exhausted second because her boyfriend didn't seem to get that she couldn't devote her entire life to half of his.

So she blew up.

"No, Chat, you're the one who doesn't get it!" she shrieked, a rush of anger and resentment flooding into her words. "I can't take this anymore, Chat!"

"I know," he whispered, too low for her to hear.

"What am I supposed to tell my parents, huh?" She continued, voice growing more and more intense, soft yellow illuminating the space around them as windows lit up, groggy neighbours yelling strings of words that paired _shut up_ 's with plenty of expletives.

No one could blame them.

"Am I going to have to walk down the aisle to see a guy in a cat costume at the end? Are our children going to grow up not knowing their own father?"

He stiffened.

"Are you going to make me wear a blindfold for the rest of my life!?"

The sobs she had been so desperately trying to contain wracked her whole body in a wave, tears spilling down her rage-coloured cheeks. She was wheezing, her teeth chattering and lips trembling as she threatened to collapse onto her knees.

Chat didn't say anything, didn't _dare_ to say anything, merely watched pitifully as the love of his life fell into pieces right before him.

"Tell me," she whimpered in between coughs. "Please tell me."

An eternity passed as she looked at him, a blurry image of panic and fear.

His mouth hung open, lips forming all of the words he wanted to say, wished he could say, but they fell emptily into the air. His gaze tore away from hers, his head shaking faster and faster before he shamefully looked her back in the eyes.

"I can't," he whispered. Every fibre in his body was screaming at him to tell her, but his fear took hold of him, and before he could even hear her response he leaped up onto the railing and jumped off.

On the balcony, Marinette slid down into her knees, her sobs echoing into the otherwise peaceful night.

* * *

The Agreste mansion was, and always had been, a very dismal and empty place. Long corridors were practically mirrored hallways, covered from top to bottom with portraits of Adrien. Ceilings were extortionately high, needless space that did nothing to ease the suffocating feeling Chat had when he jumped in through the window into his own home.

He had half a mind to Cataclysm the whole place to the ground.

He walked to his bed like a zombie, carelessly falling face-first into the plush covers and releasing his transformation as he did.

"You're an idiot," Plagg muttered, zooming by the boy's ear for a second.

"I know," a muffled noise came from the tangled mess of blonde hair sprawled on the silk pillow.

"As long as you know," his black kwami replied, settling himself on the nightstand. "What are you gonna do now, kid?"

"I don't know."

The little cat made no comment, simply yawning and curling up next to the alarm clock. None of the blinds were shut, and colours filled the room in bright bursts as the city of lights lived up to its name.

Adrien didn't care. He wouldn't have been able to sleep anyway, a hurricane of thoughts racing in his head without so much as a promise of calming down anytime soon. They were distraught, muddled thoughts, nonsensical in every sense of the word.

 _I should tell her,_ he thought.

 _No._

 _Why not?_

 _You can't tell her._

 _Why not?_

 _She'll leave you._

 _No she won't._

 _She'll leave you. Everyone left you. She'll leave you. Mom left you. She'll leave you._

 _She'll leave me?_

 _She'll leave you._

 _I can't tell her._

* * *

 **2:46 a.m.**

Marinette had stopped crying. She looked out aimlessly at the dark wooden ground, a pounding headache throbbing at her temples. Fatigue paralyzed her limbs.

She wondered if it was worth transforming into Ladybug just so she'd have the strength to crawl down into her own bed.

Tikki was out like a light. In a few minutes, Marinette would be too, numb to the pain that dug into her as she lay contorted across the floor.

* * *

 **6:13 a.m.**

A rapid vibration in the pocket of his dress pants jolted Adrien awake. Groaning, he flipped himself over, pulling out his phone and staring at it with scrunched eyes as the bright light attacked his sleep-deprived face.

 _In New York for last-minute business. Will be back Tuesday. Contact Nathalie for your schedule._

 _Tuesday_ … he thought to himself, groggy gears turning in his head as he struggled to remember the current day. _The Gala was Saturday, so today must be… Sunday?_

Three days.

He turned over and went back to sleep.

* * *

 **7:56 a.m.**

Early morning sunshine hit her face, and Marinette awoke in irritation. She felt stiff and heavy, all parts of her sore and painful from the terrible way she'd fallen asleep. The memory of the previous night escaped her for the time being, and she crawled to the trapdoor, lowering herself delicately and crumpling into her bed.

Her dress was snagged beyond repair, but she didn't notice.

* * *

 **Monday**

No akuma attacks.

No reason to go see his lady, to go and apologize for the mess he'd caused.

* * *

 **Tuesday**

A phone call from Mr. Agreste.

An opportunity to work as a designer for the New York branch of his company.

A decision to make.

* * *

 **Wednesday**

" _I'm moving to New York next week, it's my dream job. Sorry Chat."_

He threw his phone against the wall, taking pride in the noticeable dent it created in the immaculate white paint. He could scream, but he didn't, instead flinging himself onto his bed, hot tears mixing with curse words muttered under his breath.

 _She's leaving you._

* * *

 **Author's Notes:**

I think it seems as though we're all getting on a train and riding into OOC-land, so I did my best to kinda sorta explain the way they're feeling in this chapter.

In terms of Adrien in particular, I guess I'm really focusing on the idea that's he's been homeschooled his entire life and never had the chance to go to school in this AU, something that, combined with his father's neglect, really did a downer on his self-confidence (the poor cinnamon roll)

Anyway I really wish I had just stuck to writing fluff, but I'm in too deep at this point. The story should be done with two more chapters, if you want more don't hesitate to let me know but I have exams coming up next week so any future kiss scenes would have to wait.

As always, thanks for the support ^^


	8. Chapter 8

Marinette wasn't entirely one hundred per cent sure she was actually going to move to New York in a week. Heck, the reality of the whole idea hadn't even fully hit her yet.

Her parents had been thrilled when she gave them the news, Sabine's eyes lighting up with excitement at her daughter's accomplishment, and Tom's shining with a prideful, reluctant joy. Marinette had known her parents would be supportive- too supportive, really. They always let Marinette make the decision in the end, but when her mom pulled her in for a tight hug and her dad playfully slapped her back, asking "when do we start packing?" with only the slightest hint of a hitch in his voice, Marinette knew there was no choice to be made in their eyes. It was her dream.

They didn't know about Chat Noir, they didn't know she was Ladybug, all they knew was that their daughter was just given the opportunity of a lifetime and it would seem absolutely ridiculous to them if she didn't take it.

So she did.

The first phone call was made to Mr. Agreste's assistant, Nathalie, meant to inform him that she would indeed be taking the offer.

* * *

"Excellent," Nathalie's strict voice spoke fuzzily through Marinette's phone. "Travel and living accommodations will be made immediately. We'll call you back as soon as everything is confirmed."

"Great, thanks," she replied, but the line was already dead.

* * *

The second phone call was made to Alya, Marinette knowing that he best friend would kill her if she didn't get the news straight away.

* * *

"AHHHHHHHHHHHH Mari that is so AWESOME!" The redhead squealed into the receiver, giving Marinette a bit of a headache on the other side. "New York!? A designer!? For _the_ Agreste line!? I'm so proud of you!"

"Thanks, Alya," Marinette giggled back. "I'm going to miss you so much, though."

"We'll skype. What's the time difference? Ah who cares, we'll figure it out," Alya retorted. "AHHHHHHHHH I still can't believe it! My beautiful little Mari, about to get her dream job and move away from home and become an adult! Who knew this day would come!"

She burst out laughing when Marinette could only snort in response.

* * *

The last phone call was supposed to go to Chat, but Marinette was hesitant to talk to him.

When she'd woken up on Sunday, it took her some time to fully recollect what had happened the night before. She still felt resentful and angry, but the feelings were muted, a good night's sleep removing some of their acuteness. She knew she'd been rash, and although she didn't feel particularly guilty for what had transpired, Marinette knew that they'd both been overwhelmed last night and she might have gone just a smidge too far.

So she figured that once Chat had had time to properly consider her request without her screaming her head off at him, he'd contact her and let her know. But the days had gone by, and he hadn't so much as texted her. And with a seasonal low for akuma attacks that summer, they'd had absolutely no contact with each other.

Thus, when she held her phone that Wednesday night, hovering her thumb over the little 'call' icon next to a picture of a smirking Chat Noir, she had a mini panic attack.

He deserved to _know_ , and he deserved to hear it _from her_ , but as much as she wanted to talk to him it felt obvious that he didn't want to talk to her.

When Tikki had tried to console her, it only made things worse.

* * *

"He just needs time to think, Marinette," the little red kwami said, concerned.

"Yeah, but how long?" The pigtailed girl muttered, staring aimlessly at the ceiling as she lay sprawled on her unmade bed.

"He's been thinking about it for months. It's not like he's going to decide overnight."

Tikki swerved to dodge the pink and white polka-dotted pillow that was tossed at her, sighing as Marinette embraced "teenage edge" in its full glory.

Cue the angsty pop music.

* * *

But Marinette knew Tikki was right, so she opted to text him instead, leaving the message short and to the point. He'd call her when he was ready. At least, she hoped he would.

" _I'm moving to New York next week, it's my dream job."_

Her fingers tapped the edge of the phone incessantly as she struggled to think of what else to type.

" _Goodbye."_

No. She deleted it. It wasn't goodbye, not yet at least.

She ultimately decided on " _Sorry, Chat."_ , carefully scrutinizing the words as she hesitated to send the text. She knew she felt sorry in one way or another, but she wasn't sure for what anymore.

 _Sorry I yelled at you? Sorry for trying to make you tell me your identity on the spot when it took me three years? Sorry I can't just love you for your superhero self?_

 _Sorry I'm leaving you?_

She looked down at the small letters written on her phone.

" _I'm moving to New York next week, it's my dream job. Sorry, Chat."_

She hit send.

Within a minute, she saw the 'read' notification, but she never got a response back.

 **Author's Notes:**

She never gets a response because the dork broke his phone.

Slowly, slowly, we are working our way to the finale (yay!). This chapter was a bit unintentional and a bit of filler but hey at least I'm updating tonight, even if there was no actual progression to the story. Whoop.

The response to the last chapter was fantastic, by the way. Don't worry, the torture will be over soon and you all will be given a happy epilogue to make up for it and when I say happy I mean long-winded make-out session because _why not_

Reviews actually give me life so please continue to leave them! Thanks again!


	9. Chapter 9

Just when Marinette thought things couldn't get any more complicated, they did.

She was groggily eating her cereal Friday morning, half paying attention to the news playing on the TV in the living room and half paying attention to getting her cereal actually _on_ the spoon. It was early- too early, although given how much difficulty Mari had sleeping the last few days, it wouldn't have made a difference whether it was seven in the morning or two in the afternoon.

She was exhausted, period.

Chat _still_ hadn't replied, and it was driving her crazy, especially now that she only had four whole days before she got all packed off and shipped herself practically halfway across the planet.

Nope. No stress, at all.

Her parents could hear her sighing from the living room.

Something told her that Chat didn't think long distance was an option, if the way he seemed to be handling the news was any indication at least, but if they _were_ breaking up (as she suspected they were, but she just wasn't sure about anything at this point), it'd be nice if they could, you know, _actually break up_ , with a proper goodbye, or even just a text, or _something_. Not knowing what was going on was killing her. She didn't want to end things like this.

Truth be told, she didn't want to end things at all, but Chat was leaving her with very little legroom on that decision.

It took Marinette a while to register the breaking news tagline on the TV, to understand that there was an akuma out and about terrorizing the city, and worse, that it was _her_ job to deal with it.

Seriously, sometimes being an easily broken-hearted teenager-slash-superhero sucked. This was _definitely_ one of those times.

Scowling, she leaped up the stairs, calling out an excuse that 'she wasn't feeling well' to her parents, one that they'd be especially inclined to believe considering her recent zombie-like demeanor. Scrambling up the steps to her balcony, she called up Tikki to transform, silently thanking her animal counterpart that was giving her the luck to see Chat and settle things once and for all.

* * *

As luck would have it, Chat was already on the scene of the attack.

"Chat," she called out, landing cumbersomely beside him. He greeted her with a curt nod.

"Don't use your cataclysm," she whispered, aware that they were being broadcasted live. "We need to talk after."

"K," he replied, and the spotted heroine winced. He had forced an amicable note to his voice, one that would sound nothing out of the ordinary to anyone else but sounded painfully strained to her. She had never realized quite how familiar she was with the small nuances of his voice, and she realized she was staring at him when he pointedly looked away from her gaze toward the direction of the chaos.

"Akuma's over there," he said languidly, gesturing with his baton. "Let's get this over with quickly."

She nodded, and they jumped, miraculously still moving perfectly in sync despite all that had transpired. Marinette couldn't help but be relieved at this one unchanging detail in the perfect pandemonium that was their lives.

Chat stole glances at her every now and then as they fought the akuma, never fully making eye contact. He was looking for the dark circles under her eyes which perfectly matched his own, anything that told him he was not alone in his suffering. He supressed his cringes watching her move, Ladybug's normally graceful and powerful movements replaced with short and choppy versions, each action filled with only enough strength to get the job done.

Even if she'd just woken up, which he guessed was the case given the time, he would've assumed that she hadn't really slept for days.

 _You and me both, Mari,_ he groaned inwardly, the sad irony of the situation bringing a bittersweet smile to his face.

"What's up, kitty?" Ladybug hopped beside him for a moment; the expression had not gone unnoticed, evidently.

"Nothing," he propelled himself into the air instantly, not wanting to face the burning intensity of those bluebell eyes.

"Come on, Chat," she said under her breath, watching as he jumped to hit the akuma in the face with his baton. "We're almost done."

The fight didn't last much longer, Ladybug using her Lucky Charm to trap the villain before grabbing the akumatized object and crushing it in her exhausted hands. One heavily unenthusiastic chant of 'Miraculous Ladybug!' and everything was back to normal. Well, everything except-

"Wanna head back to my place?" Ladybug whispered lightly in Chat's ear, her breath warm against their cheek as the duo was pressed together closer and closer from the paparazzi.

"Sorry guys, gotta go," Chat half-heartedly gave his iconic two-finger salute, vaulting himself into the air after Ladybug, who, being threatened by the beeping of her Miraculous, had already tossed her yoyo and flown away.

The two teenagers practically tripped into the balcony, Marinette crawling down the trapdoor literally seconds before her transformation wore off and Chat clambering in after her.

"Hold on a sec," she gasped, racing down the stairs.

Chat was left alone with Tikki for company, who could only offer him a soft sigh and a grateful smile.

"Mari doesn't really like me getting involved, but she's doing the best she can." The red kwami buzzed, flying herself to a small pile of loose fabrics that was multi-purposed into a bed. "I'm sure you are, too."

"Thanks, Tikki," Chat said gratefully, making himself comfortable on the chaise.

Marinette returned breathless a couple of minutes later, shutting the trapdoor that led into her room with a loud _thud._

She plopped into her desk chair with a forced smile, the momentum rolling her a little further away from where Chat was sitting.

"Sorry," she squeezed her eyes, leaning her elbows on the desk and resting her head in them. "We were supposed to go shopping this morning, I had to let them know I wasn't feeling well enough for it."

She could see Chat's mindless nod from the corner of her eye, and she sighed, spinning in her chair to face him.

Silence.

Marinette could barely remember there being a time when she and Chat could be quiet together and it didn't feel as terribly awkward as it did right then. She drummed her fingers on the edge of the armrests of the chair, praying that somehow, things would work out between them.

Tikki offered her a thumbs up from her little makeshift bed, the little kwami doing her best to cheer the pigtailed girl on.

She took a deep breath. This was up to _her_ to do, and now was her last chance.

"Have you thought about it? She asked gently. They both knew what 'it' was.

"Mmm," he hummed in response. _Was that a yes?_ She hoped so.

"And?" She prompted.

"I don't know," he answered honestly after a couple seconds. The sadness and fear was blatant in his voice. "I want to, but…" he faltered, staring out the window.

She sighed, wanting a proper answer, but it wouldn't do to pester him on the same subject over and over.

"Do you want me to stay?" she continued instead, scooting her chair a bit closer to him.

"Do you _want_ to stay?" he asked in return, biting his lower lip as if the question wasn't intended to have come out. His claws fiddled with the corners of the fluffy blanked that had once glued them together.

She wished he would just _look_ at her.

"It depends," Marinette replied. "It is my dream job and all, and it's a one-in-a-million chance…"

"But?" he finished for her, hearing the intonation in her words.

"But you're here," she smiled, feeling her eyes beginning to grow damp.

He considered her answer for a moment, then glanced at Tikki, fast asleep on the cozy fabrics. "What about Ladybug?"

"I'm not going to be a superhero forever, Chaton," Marinette chuckled, grinning comfortably. "Do _you_ want me to stay?" She repeated earnestly.

He finally looked at her.

"Would you stay if I told you who I was?"

He did his best to hide the grimace when she immediately said yes.

"But it's your dream!" He pointed out. "You love designing, and-"

"And I love you," Marinette cut him off, eyes shining.

"I love you, too," he blinked back, taking a deep breath. He had decided.

"Which is why I don't want you to stay."

Her smile disappeared instantly, her eyes which were as clear and bright as the day outside dulling to a periwinkle blue.

"You're not going to tell me?"

"No, I'm not," he said desperately. "I want you to go. I don't want to be the one to hold you back."

"You just want to be a coward, that's all," she spat back, closing in on herself.

"No, Mari, listen," he stood up. Her whole body was turned away- her turn now to refuse to look at him. "Listen to me."

He closed up the distance between them, knotting his arms around her neck as he hugged her from behind the chair. She stiffened at first, then relaxed, pressing her head against his right bicep.

"Go," his breath tickled her cheek, and she unwillingly brushed up against him, melting in his oh-so-familiar touch. "Everything will work out, Princess."

"Promise?" she breathed, angling her head away from his so she could meet his gaze. For the first time in a _very_ long time there was no hesitation, no fear in his eyes- just plain determination and even a hint of mischievousness.

There was the Chat she'd grown to love, no matter who he was under the mask.

"Promise."

He spun her chair slightly toward himself and leaned in for a kiss. Their lips just barely grazed, but Chat could perfectly taste the salty flavour of a couple spilled teardrops.

"I'll see you soon, Marinette."

And with that, he was out through the window in a few moments, the sudden chill painting goosebumps on Marinette's skin where, seconds ago, she was being burned by the golden sun.

* * *

The doors to his father's study were needlessly huge and needlessly intimidating. Adrien braced himself before knocking, holding his breath as he waited.

"Come in," a deep voice called from inside.

He let out a sharp exhale, pushing open the wooden door and stepping inside.

"Father," he greeted his dad, who only looked on with curiousity.

"I have a request."

* * *

 **Author's Notes**

I have good news and bad news c:

Good news is the finale is next chapter. Bad news is I'm pretty dang busy this week so who knows when it will be out but it's all finally planned and I can't wait ^^

In terms of this chapter- yay I'm fixing things! No more angst! You've survived! :D

Thank you all for the continued support!

 **PSA** I'm doing Marichat May drabbles over on my tumblr so if you want to read more: bobdtigr


	10. Finale

The first order of business on that fated Tuesday afternoon was to visit Master Fu and say her final goodbyes to Tikki.

Marinette was not unfamiliar with the ancient old man, having acquainted herself with him several times over the years when Tikki fell ill or when she just needed a piece of grandfatherly wisdom from someone who knew exactly what she was going through. Master Fu was an understanding man, a virtue he'd developed thanks to his almost 191 years on the planet, so when Marinette explained the situation to him he only smiled knowingly, telling her it's alright- Ladybug and Chat were never the same people for too long anyway.

"I'm sure there's another clumsy middle-schooler that'd be perfect for the part," Marinette joked weakly, mindlessly rubbing the base of Tikki's antennae as the kwami relished in her owner's last affective touches.

"Probably," Fu chuckled kindly in response. "I do not want to say it is a shame, because you deserve the opportunity to chase your ambitions, but you truly were a fine Ladybug."

"Thank you," the girl replied earnestly. "For everything."

"It was my pleasure."

The traditional wooden clocked chimed two o'clock, surprising all three of them.

"Alright, Tikki," Marinette grinned, tears beginning to well at the bottom of her sombre-blue eyes. "I guess this is goodbye."

The cherry-coloured kwami flew up close to the soon-to-be-former-superheroine's face, nuzzling her cheek.

"I'll miss you a lot," Tikki giggled, her expression composed but a hint of sadness still apparent. "But I wish you all the luck in the world, Marinette."

They paused for a bittersweet moment, Marinette taking a slow, deep breath before delicately bringing her trembling hands up to her ear.

"Goodbye, Tikki," she whispered, removing the first earring.

"Goodbye, Ladybug."

She deposited the Miraculous into the original hexagon-shaped box that started it all and handed it to Master Fu, who accepted it with a nod and sentimental smile.

"Well," Marinette said, a high, cheery voice mixing with the tears rolling down her cheeks. "I have a plane to catch, so… good bye, I guess." She bit her lip, trying to stop herself from crying.

"Farewell, Marinette," Fu placed his hand on her shoulder encouragingly. "May your future have the best of luck."

* * *

"Plagg?" Tikki called out, spotting the telltale black ears behind a gigantic wheel of cheese on the dresser. "What are you doing here!?"

The black kwami gulped down his mouthful of camembert, giving his well-loved friend a big, cheeky grin. "You're not the only one whose Miraculous wielder is going off to New York!"

* * *

Indeed, sitting in Seat 2A on flight F6294 at Charles De Gaulle Airport was a very handsome and very _jittery_ blonde boy who kept alternating his gaze from out the tiny window to the aisle on his left where soon, hopefully, he'd see the girl he was waiting for.

The butterflies in his stomach took a turn for the worse as soon as he saw her. He grinned, watching her face pale in shock as she abruptly dug through the pockets in her favourite black cardigan, hastily pulling out her boarding ticket. Adrien started to laugh out loud when she looked up from her ticket to the number written below the overhead compartment, then back to her ticket, then back up at the number, then finally to him.

"Hey, Marinette," he gave a small wave. "Long time no see."

"Oh, uh," she stammered, not meeting his gaze behind the large duffel bag she was carrying. Her cheeks burned with their usual redness.

She managed to squeak out a pitiful hi, the tension between them growing in every passing second after the sounds left her mouth.

Adrien turned into himself, not wanting to make her uncomfortable. He returned his gaze out the window as he watched Marinette from the corner of his eye try (and fail) to get her luggage into the very, very high storage compartment.

"Here, let me get that for you," he intercepted her, climbing out of his seat to grab the bag and push it up into the space.

"Oh, uh, thank you," she said, scarlet blazing her face as she realized their sudden close proximity- airplane aisles were only _so_ large.

"No problem," Adrien replied, quickly ducking back into his seat, chiding himself for scaring her. Although, looking at the pigtailed girl as she carefully let herself sink into the plush maroon chair, he figured there wasn't anything he could do that wouldn't make her feel even more nervous.

This in turn made him _even more_ nervous. As he expected, the air filled with an awkward silence. He fiddled with his phone as Marinette struggled with her seatbelt.

"Is this your first time on an airplane?" he asked curiously, wanting to break the ice.

"Yeah, I'm kinda nervous," Marinette answered, laughing politely.

"Do you want the window seat?" Adrien offered, leaning up slightly.

"Oh no, it's okay, but thanks," she held her hands up in protest as Adrien, defeated, fell back into his chair.

They broke apart again, the quiet drowning them.

Adrien trained his head straight ahead, pretending to pay attention to the airplane loading image on the screen in front of him. He was acutely aware of the impatient drumming of Marinette's fingers on the shared armrest between them.

"Sorry about the gala," she blurted out suddenly.

"What?" he asked, turning to face her.

"The gala," she repeated. "I just randomly disappeared, I'm sorry if I caused any trouble or something."

"Oh, don't worry, I took care of it," Adrien told her, glad to see her relax, if even just a smidgen.

"That's good," she breathed, and he could see her hesitate, not wanting to break the conversation.

"I'm happy to hear that you got a spot designing for my dad's company," he continued.

"Oh, yeah, I'm very thankful to both of you," she smiled gratefully. "I was so surprised to find out you paid attention to my designs."

"They're really great," he complimented her, grinning at the blush highlighting her cheeks. "I look forward to working with you in New York."

"Wait, what?" she paused, momentarily confused. "Working with me? In New York?"

"Yeah, my dad is letting me model for the new branch, so I'll be living there now," he explained.

"Oh…" she gasped. "That's cool, are you looking forward to it?"

"I look forward to anything that had to do with getting away from my father," he retorted, sighing.

"Yeah, he seems a bit… protective."

"You don't know the half of it."

Their conversation continued, the flow of it becoming more and more natural as they discarded their etiquette and began to act more and more like themselves. In fact, they were in a very heated discussion about their favourite video games when the flight attendant interrupted them, asking them to please quiet down because people around them were trying to sleep.

"Sorry!" they apologized in unison, giggling at each other. The lady only sighed at the stupid teenagers, closing the curtain that separated their seats from the aisle as though the sheer fabric could in any way muffle the sounds.

Adrien was relieved to find Marinette so relaxed around him now, and it gave him a burst of confidence for what he was about to do next.

He was about to open his mouth to speak when Marinette yawned, interrupting him.

"Sorry," she apologized sleepily, craning her head into her shoulder as she struggled to get comfortable in the seat. "Geez, I know this is business class, but the seats are still _so_ uncomfortable."

He swallowed. "If you want, you can sleep on my shoulder."

She blinked at him. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah, I dunno if it will be any more comfortable, but you can try."

She leaned into him, her exhaustion seeming to inhibit her awkwardness entirely. She shifted a little bit right and left as she found the best nook, sighing contentedly when she did.

"Mmm," she hummed. "This is much more comfortable."

"Are you going to go to sleep?" he frowned.

"I'm tiiii-red," she sung lightly, snuggling closer.

He couldn't blame her- it was almost midnight, their nine-hour flight having taken off at seven due to some "engine difficulties".

"Who's going to keep me company, then?" he pouted.

"I dunno," she mumbled.

It was now or never, he realized.

"Stay up for a bit longer," he begged, lightly shaking his shoulder. Irritated, she fell back up into her own seat.

"Why should I?"

"What if," he asked, then suddenly dropped his voice into a whisper. "What if I told you I had two very important secrets that I've never told _anybody_?"

He piqued her interest, he could tell. She leaned in to him, eyes wide open, inquisitive and wondering.

"One," he held up his finger, taking a deep breath. Her stare hypnotized him, and he knew, _he knew_ there was no backing out anymore. Slowly, gently, he brought his hand up to her jaw, absentmindedly tracing her jawline with his thumb.

"I know you're Ladybug."

Her eyes blew open in shock, and her whole body stiffened like ice. "How do you know that?"

"Because," he said simply, the beginnings of a small smile dancing across his lips.

"You told me."

If her eyes were saucers before, they could hold galaxies now. Her hand trembled as she brought it on top of his, painfully cold in comparison to his which burned with nerves. Her line of sight followed his hand to his arm, then to his shoulders, then finally to his face, where suddenly every familiar feature fell into place and the instantaneous recognition flashed across her stunned face.

"Chat?" she breathed.

"Shhhhhh," he pressed a finger to his lips. "That's my second secret."

"But, but," she did her best to remain quiet as the incredulity disappeared, "if you're Chat, and you're here, and you're going to New Yo- oh my God," she realized. "You came for _me_."

"I told you everything would work out, Princess," he beamed.

Her words escaped her; she simply shook her head, a giant grin spread on her face.

"You can go to sleep now, by the way," he teased her. Wordlessly, she resumed her place on his shoulder, taking the liberty to hug his arm with hers.

Adrien's nerves had all disappeared, the butterflies had all flown away, the voices were finally gone. A sigh of relief escaped him, and he watched his sleeping girlfriend breathe up and down next to him, the goofiest smile spread all over his face.

"Good night, Marinette," he hushed, pressing a small kiss to the loose strands of her blue-black hair.

He closed his eyes and rested his head on top of hers.

* * *

 **Author's Notes:**

Oh my god!? We're done!? We're finally done!?

Wow what an experience this has been! I hope you all enjoy this chapter and the long-awaited reveal- hopefully it lived up to your expectations!

Thanks again for all of the favourites, all of the follows, and all of the reviews! The epilogue will be coming out soon and I do have the beginnings of another fic (no angst in this one! Just pure Adrienette fluff!) ready to go if you want to look forward to that.


	11. Epilogue

"Door's open!"

Adrien heard the cheerful call from inside the apartment, grinning as he opened the doorknob to let himself in. He was greeted with the delicious smell of freshly-baked gingerbread cookies and the equally delicious sight of his black-haired, blue-eyed girlfriend, who was scurrying about the little kitchen in flannel button-up pyjamas and frilly pink apron, a piping bag filled with rosy pink icing in her hands.

Bowls were stacked on every available surface, whisks and spatulas hanging out of them and threatening to fall onto lined trays that held several different kinds of cookies. It was late in the evening, lazy snowflakes drifting outside of the window, illuminated by the landscape of lights that really gave their hometown a run for its name.

"Wow," Adrien breathed, taking in the sights and smells. "Everything looks amazing."

Beside the plethora of baked delights, red and gold tinsel scalloped the brown-brick walls of Marinette's studio apartment. Colourful ornaments hung from the string lights attached to the ceiling, and even the couple of mannequins that lounged next to her worktable were dressed in obviously Christmas-themed designs. Adrien could tell she had spent much of her free time glued to Pinterest thanks to the ever-increasing number of winter crafts that decorated the tables and dressers. The centerpiece of it all was the giant evergreen Christmas tree that stood proudly next to the velvety crimson sofa, covered in glittering lights and handmade ornaments.

"Thanks," Marinette replied gratefully, distracted for a moment from the cookies she was decorating. "It took _forever_ , but it was a lot of fun!"

"How long have you been baking?" Adrien asked, chuckling as he pulled off the dark green scarf and hat Marinette had made for him as soon as the weather began turning cold.

"Since morning." Her focus was back on the icing bag, smiles and buttons drawn on the cookies with a steady hand. "I'm almost done, though."

He took off his coat, hanging it on the peg next to Marinette's before taking his usual spot on the stool at the kitchen island. He watched in awe at the baker's daughter's precise, graceful movements, entertained by the way she just made the gingerbread men seem to come to life.

"All done!" she cried, leaning back to examine her handiwork and slapping away Adrien's stealthy hand that had tried to reach for one of the cookies.

"Don't," she warned, sliding the tray of sweets away from him. "These are for the company party tomorrow."

"Just one?" He begged playfully.

Marinette sighed, rolling her eyes as she turned back to face him. She was about to concede when she finally had a chance to look at him without the distraction of her baking.

"What the heck are you wearing?"

"Oh, this?" Adrien smirked, glancing down at himself before looking back up at her. "One of the new designers made a replica of Ladybug and Chat Noir's costumes back when he was working in Paris. As soon as he met me he asked me to try it on, and I asked if I could borrow it for the night."

"And he just let you?" Marinette asked incredulously.

Adrien shrugged. "No one really says _no_ to the son of the guy writing his paycheck."

Marinette slapped him on the arm jokingly, shaking her head in disbelief. "He didn't get suspicious?"

"It's kinda difficult to, considering that the _real_ Chat Noir and Ladybug are still in Paris."

Marinette vaguely recalled a post on the Ladyblog of a recent akuma attack, but there were no wild speculations that the two superheroes were suddenly different people.

Although, if she remembered the blurry picture correctly, the new Ladybug had sleek caramel blonde hair twice the length of hers in a high ponytail, and Chat Noir's hair was a curly dark brown.

"I guess people are more blind than we thought," she said.

"What am I supposed to say?" Adrien laughed. "My face was plastered all over the place, both with the mask and without, and people _still_ couldn't put it together."

"Must be magic," Marinette retorted, smiling warmly. " _I_ was one of those people, too, and I at least saw you face to face for three years.

Adrien brightened up, and he immediately searched his pocket, pulling out some small pieces of black leather as Marinette looked on inquisitively.

"Purr-incess," he sung out, enunciating the pun much to his girlfriend's annoyance. "Close your eyes."

She complied, expecting what was to come and grinning widely in anticipation.

He quickly put on the mask and ears, rejoicing in the familiarity even though they didn't feel as seamlessly melded to his face as the real thing was. But the designer had done a great job- that much was undeniable as he noticed the small details that were painstakingly included in the costume.

Like the claws.

Marinette felt them lightly graze her cheek, and the touch made her bite her lip as she pressed her eyes shut with all the willpower she held. Adrien hesitated for a moment, feeling that something was missing but unable to touch on what.

His eyes flickered around the room incessantly, when he realized it wasn't that something was _missing_ , it was that there was too much of it.

He swiftly moved to the entrance, shutting off all of the lights and letting the room be illuminated by the exterior colours alone. His hand found its place back on Marinette's face, the material for once not limiting his ability to feel the heat that was emanating from her cheek.

"Marinette," he growled in her ear. Her eyes snapped open, unable to resist any longer, and she was met with the burning intensity of his green stare. The mask contoured his cheeks almost perfectly, and she could see the reflection of the city lights in his pupils that, even without the magic, still resembled those of a cat's.

"Chat," she breathed, the familiar word slipping off her tongue for the first time since they've come to New York. The air around them grew heavy. She felt a shiver run along her whole body despite the shuddering heat that was engulfing her. Her arms wound themselves around his neck, the feel of the leather scraping against the goosebumps of her skin a scarce bit painful but nostalgic all the same.

They were interlocked for just a moment, but as Adrien gazed upon her reddening cheeks, time seemed to have frozen completely. His pulse thundered in his ears, rivalled in sense only by the pressure he felt closing in on his back.

Their position was insurmountable, the peak of desire and anticipation pressing down and dazing them.

Marinette couldn't bear to waste a second more. She pushed forward, knocking Chat against the wall. He let himself slide down, pulling her in on top of him. Their lips connected with a careful subtlety, both of them first finding the most comfortable way to mold into each other.

Then the kiss exploded like a firework, passionate frenzy balanced with the pleasuring way her hands tangled in his honey-gold hair and his thighs held her perfectly in place. His claws tore at the bare exposed skin on her back, tracing white lines that were the undeniable evidence of his hunger for her.

Her breath hinted of baked goods, whispers not of sweet nothings but just of delicious sweets that tainted his tongue and filled his mind with a sugary dizziness. It intoxicated him, and he pressed and pressed. He was intent on never letting go, and she was content to never let him.

Their reality decayed simply to their touch, Chat's hands breaking away at some point to discard the limiting gloves. They lost each other's flavour, the essence of it having melted into one and become impossible to separate. In turn, every feeling, every press and pull became amplified, and where taste left them numb hands made them feel even more alive.

Her lips slipped off his, trailing down his jaw to where she nibbled kisses against his neck. He shuddered, clenching his arms tight against her waist, delighting in the way she whimpered against his skin. She reached toward the bell on his suit, her knuckles ticking his Adam's apple as she fumbled for the zipper. As she spread the collar apart, he tilted his neck away, exposing his collarbones. She attacked them immediately, her teeth scraping gingerly against the delicate skin as her bruised lips left their mark on him.

"Mari," Adrien's voice came out hoarse and dry. "Mari, Mari..."

"Mhmm," she moaned into his shoulder, dragging leather off of him in favour of the sticky hot skin.

His fingers tugged at the loosely-tied knot of her apron cautiously. "May I?"

"You may," she whispered. Her fingernails toyed with the zipper that was now pressing on his sternum.

"May I?" She asked in return.

"Of course."

He untied the knot as she pulled off more of his suit, breaking away from his skin for just a moment to allow him to lift the apron over her head. His knees relaxed, letting her slip back enough to be able to press her cheek against his warm chest. It was perfectly comfortable, the rise and fall of her makeshift pillow threatening to lull her into sleep.

"Do you want to get on the bed?" Adrien read her thoughts, pressing the question into her messy hair.

She nodded in response, falling back onto her knees so that she could stand up. She stepped back, offering a strong hand to Chat, which he accepted without question. The two made their way to the bed in a daze, fully ready to collapse into the tumble of handmade quilts and crocheted pillows.

Marinette was the first to climb on, letting herself fall onto her back, eyes spread wide open as she watched Chat completely discard the suit, save for the mask and ears. His physique was illuminated red and green from the outside lights, a thin sheen coating his whole body which still buzzed in excitement.

He delicately crawled on top of her, braced on his knees and wrists. Their gazes met for a second before his mischievous eyes fell to the small white buttons of her pyjamas. In understanding, she nodded, allowing him to sit back before guiding his hands to the collar of her top.

He nimbly undid the buttons, pausing between each one to glance at her with a hint of uncertainty that she dispelled with a confident smile. She suppressed her giggles as his fingers tickled her exposed abdomen, pressing her cheek into the blanket to hide the freshly bloomed red that had surfaced.

She felt a sudden pressure then, the meeting of Chat's skin to hers. The warmth collapsed onto her torso, her only protection from the agonizing heat the thin pink cotton of her bra. He burrowed his head into her neck and nibbled at her ear. She whimpered, pressing her head back to revisit his gaze. The glint in his eyes reminded her of a predator as he rescinded from her, and she bit her lip teasingly as she took hold of his jaw and pulled his mouth to hers.

He felt her hips rise up, entreating his to open further and let her in. Her pyjama bottoms rode loosely down her backside, loosening with every thrust and movement until he could feel the smooth muscle of her thighs slowly joining his. She struggled for a bit before kicking them off all together, using her newfound freedom to wrap her legs around his.

They fell over onto their side, the numbing weight of their partner on their limbs ignored in favour of more pressing matters, literally. The kiss had lost any sense of class or chastity; it was wet and wild with desperate breaths in between tangoing tongues, teeth nibbling and chewing and altogether biting.

Her fingertips wandered around his shoulder blades, massaging his well-constructed back along the lines of the muscles. His arms encapsulated her small frame entirely, one under her armpit and pressing with an intense heat on the back of her neck, the other hand rubbing gentle circles in the small of her back.

As their hold on each other relaxed so did the kiss, the adrenaline rush fading away like the smoke of a recently put-out candle. A sleepy exhaustion overcame the both of them, and Marinette broke away first, collapsing onto his shoulder.

Her eyes slid half-open, and she dreamily giggled as he joyfully looked down at her. His smile was beautifully heartwarming, and she knew that she would never forget it for the rest of her life.

His fingers moved to her flushing face, mindlessly tracing patterns over the freckles that bridged her cheeks.

"I love you, Marinette," he whispered, bopping her lightly on the nose, to which she playfully scrunched her eyes, just for a moment.

"I love you, too," she grinned, reaching up to press a final peck onto his cheek before carefully peeling the mask off his face.

"Adrien."

* * *

 **Author's Notes**

Wow this took me a lot longer than expected to write, whoops! I did come down with a sinus infection which unfortunately prevented me from being able to write for quite a bit :(

Thanks again for all of the reviews and I do hope you all enjoy this totally relevant epilogue ^^

I have released my second fanfic, and it's entirely angst-free which, depending on the reader, can be either a good thing or a bad thing (link here: s/11938738/1/Cats-and-Campfires)

Will this one have a sequel? Maybe. If you guys want one. It's not like I've already created OCs for the new Ladybug and Chat Noir or anything…

Once again, thank you so much for your follows, favourites, and reviews! I never expected such a response to my first fanfic and it was a great learning experience :D 'Till next time!


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